


Naughty Or Nice

by kittenofdoomage



Series: The Twelve Days Of Kinkmas 2018 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Elves, F/M, Fluff, Hook Up, Krampus - Freeform, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17004597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Reader helps the boys take down a Krampus that was hunting at the grotto she was running. She’s dressed as an elf and Dean decides he’s going to flirt, which leads to him receiving a wonderful Christmas surprise.





	Naughty Or Nice

The mall clock struck five, chiming out through the halls. A lot of the shops were open late for Christmas shopping, but the grotto had closed thirty minutes ago and you were eager to get home and enjoy a glass of wine.

Locking up the backdoor, you readjusted your elf shoes, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. It was still a little busy as you made your way out to the parking garage, digging for your keys in your purse.

Unlike the inside of the mall, the garage was empty and you’d parked on the highest level. It was dark and creepy and the lights flickered, quickening your pace toward your car. One of your shoes caught on a grate and you tripped, landing on the ground with a thud.

Something growled in the darkness.

The lights flickered again and went out completely. Dread settled in your bones and you gathered your things, reaching for your shoe that was still caught in the grate.

You knew it, instinctively, that you weren’t alone in the dark. It was cold and you shivered, looking up and feeling the hairs raise on the back of your neck. The lights flashed, trying to come back on, but only managed to illuminate the huge beast in front of you.

“What the -”

The thing roared and you ducked, covering your head like it might save you from being eaten by whatever it was.

A gunshot rang out and you refused to look, closing your eyes tightly and hoping nothing touched you. The sounds of a scuffle reached your ears and another shot make you squeak in fright.

Everything fell silent. The lights came back on and you gingerly raised your head, wide eyes glancing around in fright. The hairy beast was gone - in its place stood two large men that you recognized as the two FBI agents poking around the grotto earlier on.

“What -”

“You okay?” The shorter one, Agent McKellen if you remembered correctly, offered his hand.

“No?!” you exclaimed, taking his hand and using his weight to pull yourself up. Unfortunately, he tugged at the same time and the force of your combined strength sent you crashing into the agent’s arms, right against his broad and very solid chest. “What the fuck was that?”

Agent McKellen chuckled, waving his hands around like he was trying not to touch you and you stepped back, visibly shaking. The other agent bent down and picked up your shoe, offering it to you. “Here,” he murmured and you took it, eyeing them warily.

“Not gonna answer?”

“It was a Krampus,” Agent McKellen blurted out. “We’re, er, we’re hunting it.”

You nodded, still bewildered by the situation. “Because that’s what the FBI do. X-Files stuff.”

The sound of an approaching car made the three of you turn and you frowned, recognizing the family that drove past. They’d been in the grotto earlier - their kid was one of the worst you’d had to deal with.

“That’s them,” the taller agent grunted.

“Wait,” you stuttered, “what… is that  _thing_  after them?” The two men hesitated and you narrowed your eyes. “Oh, okay, yeah, that’s fine, I only just nearly got  _eaten_  but don’t tell me anything -”

“Ma’am, we’re just trying to keep you safe,” Agent McKellen started and irritation flooded your nerves.

“ _Ma’am_?” you repeated, “do I look fifty to you?” Neither of them spoke. “That family,” you continued, “were in the grotto earlier. Has this got something to do with the missing kids?”

The taller of the two agents took his partner’s elbow, gesturing away from you. “It’s classified,” he stated stiffly, “best if you just go home. Safer.” You remained in your spot, mouth opening and closing as the rational part of your brain told you he was right. The two men turned their backs to you and you sighed, snatching the elf hat from your head, suddenly remembering how ridiculous you must have looked.

“For fucks sake,” you groaned, turning and slouching toward your car.

By the time you’d gotten into the driver’s seat and put your keys in the ignition, you had decided you couldn’t ignore the situation. And you knew exactly where you’d find the family’s address.

*****

692 Evergreen Row was a house that looked like every other house on the street. One of those neighborhoods that looked like little boxes. The Christmas lights on the lawn twinkled happily as you approached the house and you stopped on the porch, reconsidering your plan.

It wasn’t actually a plan. You’d found their address on their credit card and disclaimer slips from the grotto - there was no way in hell you’d forget a kid like Casey Reynolds. He was a brat and possibly evil, but he was still a kid and you didn’t want anyone to eaten by that thing in the garage.

No one answered when you knocked and you tried the door, thinking it would be locked. When it opened on the first twist, pieces of wood falling to the floor, that same dread you’d felt in the garage returned.

“Hello?” you called out, moving further into the house against your better judgement. “Oh, my god, Y/N,” you hissed, scolding yourself, “you’ve seen this movie.” With a shake of your head, you tiptoed into the living room, admiring the Christmas tree and decorations. “Mr. Reynolds?”

Something moved in the kitchen and you swallowed down your fear, stopping in the living room.

“Mrs. Reynolds?”

The Christmas tree flickered and went off. Everything plunged into darkness.

“Shit,” you whimpered, “what the fuck am I doing?”

Something loomed in the moonlit doorway, the big hairy creature that you’d seen in the garage. Its features were more distinguishable than before; huge slobbering jaws, hair all over, twisted horns and flaming red eyes. It snorted, drooling as it lumbered a few steps closer and you felt like you were going to piss yourself in terror.

The front door burst open and you yelled, running in the opposite direction as the two agents tumbled in, brandishing what looked like wooden spikes. Darting through the lounge, you scrambled for the stairs, hearing them start to fight.

At the top, little Casey Reynolds stood, wide-eyed and frightened. “Go back in your room,” you snapped, “you’ll be safe.” The kid turned and ran before you could touch him and your attention turned to a lump on the floor.

Mr. Reynolds was sprawled outside the bathroom; you checked him for a pulse, hearing Casey’s bedroom door slam shut. The sounds of the fight cut off with a yell and everything went quiet again. You could hear Mr. Reynolds breathing and what you thought might be Mrs. Reynolds sobbing in the bedroom. Casey was peeking out of his bedroom door now and you hissed at him, waving your arm to get him to conceal himself.

Slow, loud footsteps on the stairs echoed up the hall. You scurried away from the door, away from Mr. Reynolds, fear making your whole body shake. What if the creature had killed the agents and was coming for everyone else in the house?

Why the fuck had you decided to try and be a hero?

You crawled over to Casey’s room, making it inside just as a shadow appeared at the steps. It was huge in the moonlight, but you didn’t wait to figure out if it was the creature, shutting the door and hurrying Casey into his closet.

“You’re an elf!” the kid squeaked. “But Christmas is next week -”

“Shut it, kid,” you muttered, “you’re gonna get us killed.”

“What was that thing?” he whined, not getting the hint that he needed to be quiet. Whatever had come up the stairs stopped outside the bedroom door and you dragged Casey closer, covering his mouth to shut him up.

The bedroom door opened and you held your breath, feeling Casey’s frightened tears on your fingers. The footsteps came closer, stopping outside the closet and the handle wiggled. As it opened, you prepared yourself, relief flooding your system as you saw Agent McKellen, covered in what looked like -

“Is that slime?” you asked and he scowled.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, pulling you out of the closet as Casey ran off toward his mom’s room. “We told you -”

“I distracted the thing, didn’t I?” you spat back, “because I think it was up here about to eat the parents.”

The agent scowled. “Krampus don’t eat parents. They just kill them and take the kid.” You blinked at him in confusion and he suddenly realized what he said. “Okay, that doesn’t sound much better but -” He took your arm, marching you from the bedroom, “you could have gotten yourself killed.”

Casey was sobbing in the hallway with his mom as the other agent bent over Mr. Reynolds, trying to rouse him. “Ambulance is on its way,” he said, looking up at you with a frown. “I think she disturbed it. Probably saved their lives.”

You couldn’t help smiling smugly at Agent McKellen who rolled his eyes. “I’m taking her home. Can you deal with the cops?”

The taller man shrugged. “Sure thing, dude.”

“Shouldn’t I stay?” you questioned, shaking your head as McKellen took your arm. “I mean, the cops will wanna know what happened.”

“And you’re gonna tell ‘em, what?” he drawled, tugging you down the stairs, past the big pile of meat and goo at the front door. You hesitated, unsure what you would tell them, and he grinned at your silence. “Thought so.”

You stayed quiet, letting him lead you out of the house and toward a sleek black car parked at the curb. In the distance, sirens whirled toward the house, and on the way down the street, three squad cars and two ambulances raced past.

“You’re not FBI are you?”

The quiet question took him by surprise. “No,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “We’re just the guys who know how to deal with this stuff.”

“And it was kidnapping children?” He nodded and you looked down at your hands. “What’s your real name?”

“Dean Winchester.” More silence followed - you couldn’t organize your questions in your head, let alone get them out of your mouth. “You know,” he said slowly, glancing over at you, “what you did was brave. Stupid,” you smiled, “but brave.”

You shrugged, looking back at him. “I may only be an elf but I’m a good person.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “You put yourself in danger to protect someone else, someone you didn’t even know.” A crooked smile stretched his lips and you wondered if he was even paying attention to the road with his green eyes on you. Thankfully, before you had to express concern, he looked back at the asphalt. “That sorta thing isn’t what most people would do.”

“I’m not most people,” you whispered, sighing heavily. “Gotta say, sounds a lot more exciting fighting monsters than cleaning puke out of a Santa costume for minimum wage.”

“Oh yeah, it’s awesome. You get to kill things and dig up dead bodies - it’s real glamorous,” Dean chuckled, “but we don’t get paid.”

You giggled, relaxing a little. “Damn. System sucks.” Looking down at his jacket, you grimaced. “No offense, you just saved my life and everything but… you kinda smell.”

He glanced at his shirt and jacket, grimacing. “Yeah. Krampus tend to explode when you stab ‘em. We’ll find a motel and I’ll get washed up.”

“Or…” you started, unable to believe what your brain was telling you to say, “I have a shower you can use and my machine does a quick cycle. That’s probably water-soluble, right?” Dean blinked in uncertainty. “I have great water pressure.”

That comment seemed to make him more agreeable. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great. Sam’s gonna be stuck with the cops for a while anyway. You sure that’s okay?”

“Motel showers usually end up making you dirtier than when you got in,” you mumbled, cringing at the thought. “Take the next left.”

*****

The fact that Dean was a complete stranger, who’d just dispatched a monster that was eating children, only occured to you when you were rooting through the cupboards for a snack. Unfortunately, payday was two weeks away and you were low on food.

“Wow,” came Dean’s voice from behind you and you turned, jaw dropping at the sight of him in only one of your mom’s old cotton blend towels. “That’s a lot of candy.”

“We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup,” you quoted back at him before apologizing. “That movie is on a lot at work.” Dean chuckled, leaning against the wall and you returned to looking through the cupboards, sighing when you came up with nothing but candy canes with the mall’s logo on them. “Looks like it’s take out again.”

Stubbornly averting your eyes, you reached for your purse, stopping when Dean’s hand covered yours. “I gotta ask,” he drawled, the low timbre of his voice making your mouth go dry, “do elves get judged on whether they’ve been naughty or nice?” Meeting his eyes, you tried to kickstart your brain as you realized how close he was to you.

In nothing but a towel.

And he just so happened to be one of the hottest guys you’d ever laid eyes on.

 _Might a serial killer_ , your sensible side pointed out.

 _But what a way to go_ , said the less-sensible side.

You swallowed, managing a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess… there must be naughty elves.” A throbbing arousal took up residence in your core and you licked your lips, palms growing clammy as you kept your eyes on Dean’s.

“Hmmm,” he ran his fingers along your arm, playing with the lace on the end of your sleeves, “I figured you’d be the best person to ask, being one of Santa’s helpers and all.” The way he looked at you through his lashes made your knees weak. How could he do that when you were almost having to crane your neck to maintain eye contact? “What happens to naughty elves?”

“They…” Oh, god, you were bad at this. So bad. Everything Dean was sexual, even the way he breathed turned you on - okay, so it had been a long while since your last encounter with anything that didn’t run on batteries. A stiff breeze could get you wet at this point. “I -”

“I think,” Dean murmured, planting one hand on your ass and squeezing softly, “maybe this naughty little elf,” his finger was underneath your chin, tilting it up so he could brush his lips over yours, “should let me teach her a lesson.”

Was this actually happening? Was there a hot guy in your apartment, wearing nothing but a towel, and kissing you? Or had you finally gone crazy from constant repeats of Mariah Carey’s _All I Want For Christmas (Is You)_?

Dean’s lips were warm and soft against yours, his hands easily pulling your smaller body into him. You could feel the outline of his erection through the towel and it took a second to remember that you still needed oxygen to function.

“Sorry,” you gulped, trying to sound apologetic, “I - just - this is all very sudden.”

He blinked at you, confused. “You didn’t notice me flirtin’ with you this morning?”

With a shake of your head, you placed your hands on his chest, desperate for him to not take offense. “The costume,” you started, gesturing to the space where your cleavage was on display, “it, er, makes the dads a little -” You swallowed again, still nervous. “Y’know… so I just tune it out. And it’s busy, near Christmas -”

“I get it,” Dean interrupted, chuckling, “the costume is pretty sexy though.” He pulled you into another kiss, running his hands down over your breasts and to your hips. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t,” you gasped as one hand pressed up underneath your skirt, teasing the thin cotton of your green leggings. It felt like someone had set a fire between your thighs and you wrapped one hand around the back of Dean’s neck, clinging to him as you kissed.

“Don’t what?”

His tone was playful and you whimpered when he stroked your core, moaning against his mouth until you broke away. “Don’t stop,” you managed, tugging at his towel with the hand not around his shoulders. The fabric came away easily and Dean grunted as you encircled his cock with your fingers, squeezing the base a little. “Guess I am a naughty elf after all.”

It was almost like a dam had broken. Dean dragged you against his chest, crushing your hand and his cock between you, his mouth demanding deeper kisses. He pulled at your clothing and you helped him, everything turning into a confusing mess of limbs and tongues as you pushed him out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom.

The costume, in your opinion, looked better on the floor, but you didn’t get a chance to hang it up as Dean forced you onto the bed, kissing a path down between your breasts. You were only wearing your panties now, a visible damp patch on the front of the red cotton, and Dean groaned, closing his mouth over your clothed core.

He sucked and you whined, desperate to have nothing between you. The arousal reducing you to a quivering mess was unbearable and the only solution was to cum - Dean wasn’t about to leave you wanting.

Sliding your panties down your legs, he tossed them away, returning his mouth to your pussy, licking one long stripe through your folds that made you whine loudly.

Your hands clenched in the sheets as Dean licked at your cunt, teasing your clit before moving down and thrusting his thick tongue into you. You arched and moaned, spreading your thighs a little more for him and he groaned against you as you laid yourself out.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praised, meeting your eyes for only a second before sealing his lips around your clit.

Unbelievable pleasure surged through your body and Dean’s hands held your legs down, stopping you from jerking away from him. Each stroke of his tongue on your clit made your thighs shudder and within moments, you were crying out, whimpering, begging for him to fill you.

But he was determined to make you cum, properly, before he complied.

You were sobbing with need, hovering on the edge, and with a growl of impatience, Dean pushed two fingers into your slick channel, curling them in just the right way to make you shriek and twist in his hold. Thrusting his digits, Dean resumed his attention to your clit, groaning against you hungrily.

Familiar pressure built in your belly and you thrashed, each gasp a  _please_  that Dean ignored until you were soaking his hand, your screams of pleasure dying to mewls of bliss. His satisfaction came only when your body went limp, twitching through the aftershocks.

“Now,” he grunted, moving back up your body, “I’m gonna fuck you.”

His hand was around his cock, lining up with your soaked hole and you just about remembered that you were a responsible adult. “Condom!” you squeaked, abruptly. Dean’s cheeks flushed red. “Nightstand. Top drawer.”

Chuckling nervously, he reached over and grabbed the required packet from the drawer, tearing it open with his teeth in a manner that should not have been sexy in the slightest. You watched, eyes wide and breathing hitched, as he rolled it down his length, groaning when the elastic settled into place at the base.

“Okay,” he grinned lewdly, “ _now_  I’m going to fuck you.”

Repositioning himself, Dean pushed into you with one smooth stroke, filling you to the brim. The penetration was exquisite, making your body sing with the sensation; Dean lowered his forehead to yours, panting as he adjusted to the tightness wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck,” you rasped, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. The movement made him rock against you, prompting the start of his slow, deliberately hard thrusts. Each one was punctuated by the slap of skin on skin, the only sound in the room apart from your shared gasps and moans.

Dean kept a steady pace, kissing a path of wet caresses down your jaw and along your throat. He continued until he reached your breasts, sucking one nipple between his teeth to make you cry out. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You nodded, not able to do much else but hold on and enjoy the ride. Dean’s hands slid underneath your back, holding onto your shoulders to give his thrusts a little more leverage. It changed the angle between you, sending the thick flared head of his shaft slamming into your sweet spot and you couldn’t stop the cries from bubbling out of your throat.

“That’s it,” he snarled, his mouth dragging across yours, “cum on my cock. Give me everythin’ you got, princess.”

Pressing your head back into the pillows, you screamed when Dean took the opportunity to play with your tits again, teasing each nipple individually as he kept filling you over and over. You closed your eyes, unable to control your breathing as you gave him what he wanted, clenching hard around his cock and soaking the sheets with your release.

He cursed and growled, burying his face between your breasts as he followed you over the edge, spilling into the condom with a warmth you could just about feel. The thrusts continued, shallow but there, until he was done and he collapsed onto his elbows, holding his weight off of your body.

“I don’t…” you started, trying to work up some saliva to speak, “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Dean chuckled, lifting his head to kiss you softly, withdrawing with a wince. He collapsed to your side, nuzzling his face against yours. “That was awesome.”

His phone rang, disrupting the moment. Dean reached for it, answering in a breathless tone. You slipped from the bed with one of the sheets wrapped around you, knowing the drill, even if you hadn’t done it in a while. Not like you were expecting fireworks and a marriage proposal.

Grabbing a drink of water, you returned to the bedroom, assuming he’d be getting dressed and leaving. But when you walked in, glass in hand, you stopped, surprised to see him sprawled across the bed, naked and grinning.

“My brother cleared everything up with the cops.”

“Great,” you replied, putting the drink down on the nightstand, “I take it you’re heading off soon.”

Dean grinned, patting the bed and you sat down, yelping when he pulled at the sheet. “Not until I’m done with you, you naughty little elf.”


End file.
